Nightly Ramblings
by TheNewJefferson
Summary: So this will be a Series of One-Shots based on Disney songs. There will be Parentlock, Au's, and anything else I can think of. Will contain Sherlolly and Warston with appearances from Mycroft, Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson, and Mummy and Daddy Holmes.
1. Chapter 1

**This idea just hit me a couple of nights ago and this is what came of it. I plan to continue this, I think it'll be fun. I hope you like it! Thanks to thestarlitrose on tumblr for betaing this for me! I have no clue if that is an actual verb but I'm making it one. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but Oliver**

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As Sherlock shut the door behind him, he heard a voice from above him. He checked Mrs. Hudson's door and couldn't see any light. She had already taken her evening soothers for the evening it seemed. He made his way up the stairs towards the voice. As he hung up his coat and scarf, he looked around the flat. So much had changed in his life in the past 2 years, but his flat remained unchanged for the most part. Papers were still strewn about, experiments were still in the kitchen, though they no longer dealt with dangerous chemicals, and he still had body parts in the fridge. However, it felt more like a home now. He looked at the smaller that coat hung beside his and the pink striped scarf that was draped on top of it. That's what had changed the most. The acceptance of one person's love changed everything.

He walked as quietly as he could towards the bedroom. He stood in the open doorway watching his fiancée attempt to put their infant son to sleep. She sat in the rocker by the window. She hadn't noticed him yet.

"Alright, young man, this is getting ridiculous. We've a big day tomorrow, and Mummy needs her rest." She rose from the rocker and began to pace the floor. He watched his son grab at her hair and coo at her animatedly. "Oliver, you're not even trying! I'll make a deal with you; If you let me sleep tonight, I'll let you sleep as much as you want tomorrow." He made a gurgling sound in response. "Okay, I know it's not a great deal but it's all I have to offer at the moment."

Sherlock leaned against the doorframe and covered his mouth in an attempt to stifle his laughter. He could never understand why Molly tried to bargain with their five month old. He lowered his hand as she started to hum softly. She slowly began to sing.

"Come stop your crying, it'll be alright. Just take my hand and hold it tight. I will protect you from all around you, I will be here don't you cry."

"For one so small, you seem so strong." Molly's head shot up when he started to sing. As soon as Oliver saw his father he began to babble excitedly. Sherlock took him out of Molly's arms and continued to sing. "My arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm. This bond between us can't be broken. I will be here, don't you cry." He hummed the rest of the tune as he watched his son's eyelids flutter shut.

Sherlock smiled as he went to the bassinet and laid the baby down then covered him up. He ran his fingers through Oliver's soft brown hair. It He had inherited his mother's straight hair. Oliver was every bit his mother's son. He was even showing signs of having her temperament. Sherlock could barely see himself in the child at all. The only thing he took from his father was his eye color, even the shape was Molly's. He thanked every deity he didn't believe in for that.

He was pulled out of his reverie when he felt Molly wrap her arms around his waist. He looked down at her as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She gave him a gentle squeeze and held the hand closest to her face. She kissed the back of it and began to lead him out of the room. He pulled the door to and she guided them to the couch. He sat down and she curled into his side.

"I wish I had your touch. He never wants to go to sleep for me and all you have to do is look at him and he falls asleep."

Sherlock chuckled, "It's my voice, love, but Oliver isn't the only one it has an effect on," he said nuzzling her hair.

"Why, Mr. Holmes, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that you were trying to seduce me," she said looking up at him.

"Oh, that's exactly what I'm trying to do Miss Hooper." He leaned down and captured her lips with his own. He threaded his figures though the hair at the base of her neck and held her close to him. She pulled back, and he made his way to her neck.

"Not that I'm complaining, but aren't you supposed to be at the Watsons' tonight?"

"I thought the tradition was that the groom couldn't see the bride before the wedding, not the night before," he murmured.

"Sherlock-"

"I've come to realize that I can't sleep without you beside me and I figured that I needed a good night's rest tonight. Don't worry, I'll be gone by the time you wake up."

"What if I want you there when I wake up?"

"Then I'll be there."

"You spoil me Mr. Holmes," she said yawning. "I would love to go to bed, but as soon as we go in there he'll wake up."

"If he does, I'll take care of him. You've had him all night."

"Sherlock Holmes, I do believe that is the best thing you've ever said to me."

"Even better than when I admitted that I loved you?"

She stood up and started walking towards the bedroom, "Alright, second best."

He chuckled and stood up. He made his way around the room, tuning off all of the lights. As he entered he hallway, he could hear Oliver having a very heated conversation with his mother. He walked into the room with a smirk on his face. Molly was sitting on the bed with Oliver in her lap.

"It sounds like we need to have a little chat," Sherlock said as he picked him up and cradled him. He walked to the window and looked back at Molly. She had already burrowed herself under the covers. "Your mother needs her sleep, unlike the two of us." Oliver cooed up at his father. "Yes, well she can't help it, you are up all hours of the day. You're not supposed to smile at that, son"

Molly smiled as closed her eyes and listened to the pair of them. She never thought she would be in Sherlock Holmes' bed, let alone be the mother of his child and have his love. She watched him rock their son and couldn't imagine her life being any better than it already was. Tomorrow would be the icing on the cake. Mrs. Sherlock Holmes. Molly Holmes. Yeah, she could get used to that. The last thing she heard before she drifted off to sleep was Sherlock's baritone filling the bedroom.

"You'll be in my heart. Yes, you'll be in my heart. From this day on now and forever more."


	2. I Just Can't Wait to be Captain

**Alrighty, here is chapter 2. This one is loosely based on "I Just Can't Wait to be King" from the Lion King. Mycroft comes to visit in this chapter. Many thanks to Liathwen for being an awesome beta.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but Oliver and Hayley.**

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I Just Can't Wait to be Captain

"The answer is no, Sherlock."

"Mycroft, it'll only be for an hour or two. There is no one else to watch him."

"Sherlock, I do not have time to watch your child."

"Uncle Mycroft, do you not love me?" Mycroft looked down at the brown haired child tugging on the leg of his trousers.

"Yes, Uncle Mycroft, don't you love your nephew?

"Oliver I-" He was cut off by the sound of small feet coming up the steps. He turned to see little Hayley Watson barreling though the door, with her father tromping up behind her.

"Hayley, Uncle Mycroft is gonna watch us today!"

"Really, you talked him into it?" John asked as he ruffled Oliver's hair and went to sit in his chair.

"I have more important things to do than watch 5 year old and a 6 year old."

"I'm 6 and three quarters, Mr. Mycroft!" Hayley said importantly, stomping her foot.

"In any case, Molly, Mary, and Mrs. Hudson are all out at the moment, John and I have a case, and I can't leave these two alone or take them with me. It seems that you have nothing pressing at the moment or you would already be gone. So, I believe that you can take a couple of hours out of your busy schedule to watch your beloved nephew and his friend."

"Sherlock-"

"You can? Great, hurry up John, I don't want them messing up the crime scene. Oliver, Hayley," Sherlock looked toward the children and knelt down in front of them. He looked them both in the eye and said in his sternest voice, "be good, and don't just say 'yes sir' actually mean it."

"Yes Papa"

"Yes sir Uncle Sherlock"

"I don't believe you for a second, but please do try at least." He rose to his full height and looked towards his brother. "We'll be back in a couple of hours. Try not to let them hurt themselves." He started walking out the door, "John."

"Right, thanks Mycroft. Hayley, behave yourself." He followed Sherlock out of the door.

Mycroft sighed and looked toward the children who had made their way over to Sherlock's chair. "Entertain yourselves." He sat on the couch and pulled out his phone.

Oliver ran over and "But Uncle Mycroft, you have to play with us!"

"And I know that you can entertain yourselves, so run along, but don't actually run."

For the next 30 minutes the sounds of laughter filled the room. Oliver and Hayley played Weeping Angels, their version of Red Light Green Light, tag and deductions. Now they were bored. They were hiding under the kitchen table hiding from the evil Minotaur that Mary had told them about.

"Oli, make your uncle play with us. Oh, maybe he'll take us to the park!"

"I don't think he will."

"At least ask him. Oli, I'm bored."

"You sound like my dad when he doesn't have a case."

"Go ask him!" Hayley pushed him out from under the table and towards his uncle. He bit the inside of his lip and started rubbing his hands together. He loved his uncle, but sometimes he was scared of him. He wasn't mean to Oliver but he never really acted like he actually liked him, more like he just put up with him. Papa said that Mycroft loved him but sometimes Oliver wondered. He looked back at Hayley who motioned him forward. He took a deep breath and walked toward his uncle.

"Uncle Mycroft?"

"Yes?"

"Will you take us to the park?"

"I'm afraid not, your father said nothing about my taking you and Miss Watson to the park," Mycroft said, staring at his nephew from above his phone.

"But we're bored!"

"Find some way to entertain yourself then."

"Will you play with us?"

"I will talk to you if Miss Watson will come out from underneath the table."

Oliver could hear Hayley's gasp. It didn't take her long to join him in front of Mycroft. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

"So tell me. What do you two want to be when you reach adulthood?"

Hayley's hand shot up, "I want to be just like my mummy and daddy!"

"So you want to heal people?"

"Yes!" she said proudly, with a grin on her face.

"What about you Oliver, what do you want to do?"

He looked at his feet. "You'll think I'm silly if I tell you."

"I knew your father when he was your age, and he wanted to be the king of all the pirates. You can't be worse than that. Come on now, tell me."

"Promise you won't laugh?"

"I promise"

"I want to be the captain of the Enterprise," he murmured.

"Captain of the what?"

"The Enterprise! Like Captain Kirk!"

"What will you do if you become Captain of the Enterprise?"

"I'll be the best Captain ever! I'll go farther than any other person has been! I'll make peace if the Romulans and all of the Klingons. And I'll find new civilizations just like the captain's oath says! I'll be my own boss and I can go wherever I please. I'll be captain so I'll be the boss!" Oliver exclaimed. He hadn't realized that he was yelling but it didn't seem like Mycroft cared. He just smirked. "You promised you wouldn't laugh."

"I'm not laughing dear boy, I'm trying to decide how I can help you."

Oliver couldn't believe his ears. His uncle was going to help him become a Captain! This was the best day ever!

"Can I help too Mr. Mycroft?" Hayley asked as sweetly as she could.

Mycroft smiled at her "Of course you can Miss Watson! We'll need all the help we can get." He stood up and steepled his hands under his chin. "So, first things first, we need make this living room into a bridge of the Enterprise."

"Yeah!" the children yelled.

When Sherlock and John finally got home they found the coffee table in front of the door and John's chair to its right. In the center of them towards the back, there was Sherlock's chair. Mycroft was sitting in it with both children in his lap. They were all sound asleep.

"I guess Oliver told him his dreams of being Captain Kirk. I swear that child can talk anybody into anything."

"I hate to wake them up, but I need to take Hayley home."

"Leave them for a bit. I'd hate to wake them up." Sherlock said as he got his phone out. "It's also great blackmail."

"If you take that picture, brother mine, I will have it forcefully deleted. And you will regret it for the rest of your life."

"Oh come now, Molly will never believe me. In any case it's too late. So, you had a good time I see?"

"He's more like you than you think Sherlock."

"I know he is," Sherlock said as he lifted his son up. John followed suit with Hayley. "Thank you Mycroft."

Mycroft stood and straightened his jacked. "Yes, well don't expect me to do this again," he said as he walked out the door.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Sherlock sighed. He felt Oliver move and looked down at his son.

"Papa, Uncle Mycroft helped us beat the Romulans."

"I'm sure he did. He is quite good at beating the bad guys."

"Yeah he is," Oliver said as sleep took over again.


	3. He's a Consulting Tramp

**Here's the next installment to these little one shots. It's based off of "He's a Tramp" from Lady and the Tramp. I want to thank benedicted-cumberbatched and thestarlitrose for helping me with this. Thanks ya'll! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything!**

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"Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective, mystery man. We don't know much about this crime solving crusader, but through Janine Hawkins we've had a little look into his love life. Many have been led to believe that he and John Watson were in a relationship, but after Dr. Watson's marriage, those rumors were nipped in the bud. We were able to get an interview with Ms. Hawkins, his ex-girlfriend who gave intimate details about her relationship with the detective. We also received a statement from someone who wishes to remain anonymous. Let's just see how the consulting detective is behind closed doors.

'What was it like to be in a relationship with Sherlock Holmes?'

'It was a whirlwind. He was sweet enough when we were alone, in more ways than one. When I said seven times I wasn't kidding but honestly it wasn't worth it. It never would be, not after what he put me through. I still see and hear girls fawning over him. They love him. They would hate him if they knew what he was really like. They don't know what he's capable of, though or maybe they do. Who's to say? He's manipulative, cruel, and vindictive. I want to tell them that he'll just use them like he used me, but they wouldn't listen and I wouldn't want him to change.'

'You say you don't want him to change? If he treated you so badly, wouldn't you want him to change?'

'Well, he wouldn't be Sherlock Holmes if he changed, now would he, insufferable bastard that he is.'

That was all Miss Hawkins was willing to say about the detective in question. We also received an anonymous statement from a woman who claims to have had a special relationship with our detective.

'There are very few people who actually know Sherlock Holmes and I don't claim to be one of them, but I do know him better than most do. The secret to Sherlock Holmes is making him think. I was good at that. I could make people quit thinking. I gave them pleasure in ways they didn't even know was possible. I was always able to throw him off track, but what was fun with him was the fact that his mind was the source of his pleasure. Not his body. Don't get me wrong though, he knew how to use his body. In ways I had never seen before, and trust me, that's saying something. He was fun to play with, but things never quite worked out between us. I'm not sure they ever could. We were too much alike. Yet, if I was ever to fall for a man, it would be Sherlock Holmes.'

That was quite informative. This reporter thinks-"

"Molly, will you quit reading that garbage?"

She looked down at the man lying in bed beside her, "Come on Sherlock, its funny."

"I thought you'd care more about how it made me feel than that."

"Oh please," she straddled him and leaned down next to his ear and whispered "I'm the only one who really knows what you're like, remember?"

He flipped them so fast she barely had time to register what had happened. He caught her wrists and held them above her head, "Alright, Miss Hooper, I thought we had talked about using her words against me."

"Well. You shouldn't have told me then, should you?" she giggled. "Seriously though, who was the other one, the anonymous statement? They seemed to know you-" She was unable to finish her sentence thanks to Sherlock's lips molding themselves to hers.

"You need not worry about her. She is long gone. Besides, you turn my mind more than she ever could. You give me more pleasure than she could ever dream of giving me" he said as he kissed his way down her throat.

"You tramp," she sighed.

"Says the woman in bed with me."

Sherlock Holmes never realized how strong Molly Hooper was until she pushed him off the bed. Luckily for him, Miss Hooper was quite the lady and couldn't stay mad for long.


	4. Son of Holmes

**Next Installment! This one is based on Son of Man. I am actually quite proud of this one. It turned out completely different than I thought it was going to but I like where it ended up. I want to thank benedicted-cumberbatched so much for all of her help with this! I hope ya'll like it!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own a thing! Well, actually I own Oliver, but that's it. **

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Five year old William Holmes had everything he could ever want. He had his Mummy and Daddy, his puppy Redbeard, and most importantly his older brother Mycroft. He was the best big brother ever. Will never left his side.

"Myc, will you play pirates with me?"

"Can't you wait an hour or so?"

"No, Nathan won't come out of his room and we're losing daylight! Blackbeard will get to the booty before we do! Come on!" Will said as he tugged at the tan jumper his brother wore.

Mycroft sighed, "Have you got the crew ready, Captain?"

"I get to be captain this time? Really Myc?" Will looked up at his brother adoringly.

"Aye cap. We've got treasure to find!" Mycroft said as he let his little brother climb on his back. He broke out into a run as soon as Will was secured. They ran through the halls and down the stairs. They ran past their father who chuckled at the pair of them from behind his newspaper. Once they reached the doorway to the kitchen Mycroft stopped and let Will down. He peered around the corner and jumped back as soon as he looked.

"We've got trouble Captain."

Will looked up at his brother with wide eyes, "what is it?"

"The Kraken!" Mycroft said as he grabbed Will by the shoulders, "what's the plan of attack?"

"We'll sneak past! It's the only logical solution, unless we want to go all the way around the house."

"Quite right, Captain. Sneaking it is."

The boys got down on their hands and knees. Will lead the way into the kitchen and crawled along the wall and stopped when he got under the table. Mycroft stopped beside him. They watched the legs of their mother as she stood at the sink washing dishes.

"How are we going to get past her Myc?"

"Very carefully, brother mine."

"If you two even so much as think about sneaking past me, I'll have your hides before you can say shiver me timbers." The brothers quickly crawled out from under the table to stand before their mother. Mycroft stood up straight with a look of distaste on his face, while Will giggled and put his hands behind his back swinging his shoulders to the front and back.

"Mummy, we were just playing. We don't really think that you're a kraken," Will said smiling up at his mother.

"I know you don't sweet thing. Were you and Adam having fun?"

"Yeah, we-" Will started.

"I've asked you to call me Mycroft, Mummy."

"Not now, Adam."

"I don't understand why you won't call me what I want you to."

"I named you Adam, so that is what I'm going to call you."

"You also named Will William but you still call him Will."

"Yes son, because Will is short for William. There is no way that one can get Mycroft out of Adam."

"I call him Myc, Mummy," Will said.

"Will, go see your father for a quick second."

"Mummy, every time you say that, it's never a quick second."

"William," she said sternly.

"Yes, Mummy" he said as he looked down and shuffled his feet as he walked toward the living room. His mother watched him until he walked out of the room and the door shut behind him. Not wanting to miss out on any of the conversation, he stuck his ear to the door.

"Adam Mycroft James Holmes, why must you question everything I say to you?"

"It is a valid question, Mother. Why did you put Mycroft in my name if you don't like it? Perhaps I do."

"Ask your father why it is part of you name. As to your liking it and wanting to be called that, it's fine. I shall still call you Adam. Out of habit if anything."

"Will, you would do well to quit listening to conversations you are not a part of." He turned around to see his father staring at him with his paper folded in his lap.

"Sorry Daddy."

Scott Holmes chuckled at his youngest son with his unruly curls falling down in his face, his paper pirate hat fighting to stay on his head. "Come here, son." He rushed to his father and climbed up in his lap.

"Daddy, can I ask you something?"

He wrapped his arm around Will and hugged him close, "anything you want."

"Why does Myc fight with Mummy about his name?"

"Well, he wants to be called one thing but your mother wants to call him something else. She loves your brother's name so she has a hard time giving it up."

"But why does he not want to be called Adam."

"I think he wants to be different from everyone else. He wants something that will set him apart."

"Don't his brain set him apart?

"Doesn't, William. It does, but I think your brother wants a name that fits his brain. Do you understand?"

"I think. He wants a name that sounds as smart as he is."

"Something like that," Scott said.

"Daddy?"

"Yes"

"Would I be smart like Mycroft if I went by Sherlock instead of Will?"

"I happen to think that William is a very smart name, but if you would like to go by Sherlock, I will let you. It might take your mother a while to get used to it but she will get there, just as she will with Mycroft. Hopefully Nathan will keep his given name, or Mummy might lose her mind. Will," he shifted his son so he could look at him in the face. "I know that you don't fully understand why your brothers do what they do, or why your mother reacts the way that she does but one day you will. All of the answers will become clear. You'll grow up to be strong and wise, you just have to give it time. You'll have help along the way of course but you'll do it yourself. Do you want to know why?" Will nodded. "Because you are my son and because you are strong, in more ways than you know. You'll grow up to be a good man. Just do me a favor and don't grow up too fast."

"Ok Daddy," Will giggled and hugged his father.

"Captain," Mycroft called from the kitchen, "The kraken is going to let us pass."

"Gotta go, our treasure has to be protected!" Will said as he jumped off of his father's lap.

"Don't let ole Blackbeard win, son."

"Never fear, Daddy. Captain Holmes is on the case!" Will said as he ran towards the kitchen thinking about what his father said. He couldn't worry about that now. His treasure was waiting for him!

* * *

10 Years later

Sherlock was home for the holidays, the only Holmes child home for break. Mycroft was too busy with his new job and Nathan well, that's a whole other story. Home alone with his parents. He almost wished he had stayed at school but then he'd have to put up with the annoying students that stayed behind. His parents seemed more entertaining than that, but as he watched them dance around the kitchen, he began to second guess his decision.

"Are you too going to actually talk to me, or just dance around the kitchen? If not I'm going back to my room"

Meredith and Scott Holmes backed away from each other and his father straightened his bowtie.

"Must you wear those? They look ridiculous," Sherlock snipped.

"You do know that the more you complain about them, the more I will wear them right?" Scott said as he clapped Sherlock on the shoulder.

"I don't understand the enjoyment you get out of torturing me."

"I don't believe you ever will, dear," his mother chimed in. "You're trying to be too much like Mycroft."

"No I'm not. I'm nothing like him. He likes his work far too much for his own good. I know when to stop."

"Sherlock, dear, you don't work. You hardly do your schoolwork by what your teachers tell us."

"Are we really going to talk about this now?"

"Sherlock, we spend all of that money for you to barely get by. You are so smart; you can do so much better than this."

"Yes, but it's not worth my time. They are all idiots, the students and the teachers."

"Sherl-"

"I'm going for a walk," Sherlock said as he walked out of the kitchen. He sighed and shook his head has he put on his jacket.

He didn't know how long he walked or how many cigarettes he had but he knew that he would have it coming from Mummy when he got back. When he saw the house, he noticed that most of the lights were out. He might be able to postpone his mother's fury for a few more hours if he was lucky. They had left the door unlocked and the kitchen light on. He opened the door as quietly as he could, stopping before it creaked. He stepped into the kitchen to turn the light off and found his father sitting at the table.

"What happened to that little boy who loved pirates?"

Sherlock sighed as he realized that he couldn't escape his father. He sat across from him and looked at his hands. "He grew up."

"Throwing a tantrum at your mother and I when we bring up school and storming off to smoke is not grown up, William. It's childish and rude. You used to be so sweet. You were a ball of energy that never ceased to make us smile. All of us. What happened?"

Sherlock didn't know what to say. He knew the answer. He knew it whether he wanted to admit it or not. "He left," he whispered.

"Sorry?"

"He left," he said louder. ""Mycroft went to school and left me alone. Nathan wouldn't come out of his room long enough for me to say anything to him and you and Mum had other things to deal with. I know that you two did what you could, but Mycroft was the only one who seemed to want to put up with me."

Scott looked hurt, "Son, I never realized how his going to school effected you."

"Yes, well it did and I don't want to say anything more about it. It happened and there's no changing it."

"Sherlock," Scott sighed as he leaned on the table. "You do know that there are times you will be alone in life. No, you will never be completely alone, your mother and I and Mycroft will always be there to help you, even though it may seem like we are not. But, son, there are things that you will have to face alone. I know that you can face them all and come out standing tall. You may be battered and bruised but you will survive, you have so far," he got up and walked by Sherlock and towards the door, "You'll be a good man, Sherlock, you just have to believe that for yourself. Make sure you lock the door before you head to bed," he said as he walked out of the door.

"That's the problem," Sherlock whispered to himself.

* * *

20 years later

As Scott Holmes sat with his wife watching his youngest son dance with his new bride, who cradled their son between them, he wondered how they had made it to this point. He couldn't lie; there was a point in his young son's life, where he thought he wouldn't make it. Drugs have a way of destroying people and they nearly destroyed Sherlock Holmes. Had Inspector Lestrade not shown up when he did, Sherlock wouldn't be out on that dancefloor and little Oliver would not exist. Scott had to thank that man one day.

"I never thought we'd see this day," Meredith sighed as she leaned against her husband.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and toyed with the ends of her hair, "what do you mean, Dear?"

"Well, Sherlock in general. Him finding a woman that would put up with him, and being as sweet as Molly is, having a child for goodness sake!" Scott chuckled as he kissed her head.

"No, I knew he would be fine. He's our son after all. Did he worry me for a while, of course. He worried us all, but I knew that he would make it through somehow. He found his way and found what he needed and they are standing right there," he said as he pointed to the couple on the dance floor. "He didn't even know he needed them." He looked at his wife and smiled.

"He's never known what's good for him," Meredith sighed.

"I do hope you're not talking about me," Sherlock said as he walked up beside his mother with Oliver perched on his hip.

"Of course we are, Sherlock. That's what happens at weddings. People talk about the bride and groom, and their precious son. Now, give me my grandson if you don't mind." Meredith said as she took Oliver from him.

"Take him, he needs to be changed," Sherlock chuckled.

"Oh, I don't care. We need to have a little chat anyway, don't we Oliver?" She walked off towards the bathroom listening to Oliver babble about his day.

Sherlock sat in his mother's chair and grabbed a toothpick off of the table. He fiddled with it as he watched Molly dance with John. "She wasn't wrong. I've never known what was good for me. I kept Molly at arm's length for years. I didn't want to accept what she could represent, what she would change if I allowed her in."

"What changed?" Scott asked as he looked at his son.

"Me. After I jumped off that roof, after I had to stay away for years, after Magnussen, after everything that happened, she was still there. She never left me, not once. I realized that she was my saving grace. I realized that I would be truly happy if I just let her in. I'm just lucky she was still willing to put up with me." He looked down at his hands, "I never thought that I could love somebody as much as I love her. I never saw myself as a father. I honestly didn't see myself living past the age of 24, but then she showed up. She has given me everything I never knew I wanted, everything I never knew I needed."

"You've gone and grown up on me, Will." Sherlock looked up at his father. Scott just smiled, "You're a good man son. I'm proud of you."

Sherlock stared at his father then smiled. "That means a lot coming from you." He chuckled and clapped him on the back.

"What are you two talking about?" Meredith said as she walked up to them.

"Nothing of importance," Sherlock said as he stood up. "Alright young man, let's get you back to your mother before your Uncle John dances her feet off." Sherlock lifted his son out of his mother's arms. Oliver started giggling and waving his little arms around, "I would appreciate it if you didn't slap me in the face, son," Sherlock sighed as he walked off towards his wife.

"He's a good boy isn't he?" Meredith asked.

"No Dear, he's a good man. We've all known it all along," Scott smiled at his wife and kissed her head. The pair looked toward their youngest son as he gazed down at his wife with a smile on his face. "The only difference now is that he's letting everyone else know."


	5. They Won't Say They're in Love

**Next chapter is here! So obviously this one was inspired by "I Won't Say I'm in Love" from Hercules. Pulchratibi requested this, so this is all for you! I hope you like it! Many thanks to benedicted-cumberbatched and thewinterspy for all of their help on this!**

**DISCALIMER: I really don't own anything.**

* * *

"How can one person be so rude, arrogant, self-centered, and…and rude!" Molly Hopper (bellowed) as she stormed into the flat.

"What's he done this time?" Meena asked from the armchair she was lounging in. The giant plush cushions almost engulfed her as she lay across it flipping through a magazine, not even looking up at her friend.

Molly flung her bag on the couch and nearly pulled the hook off of the back of the door when she hung her coat and scarf up. "The bastard never talks in class, never! The one day that I decide to speak up, he answers the questions before the teacher even asks them! I don't know how he does it. Oh, and after class, he had the gall to tell me I needed to speak up!" She finally threw herself down, sitting on her purse in the process.

"That's very unfortunate Molls," Meena said, kicking her feet, still not looking up from her magazine.

"Meena, do you even care?"

She sighed as she shut the magazine, she looked up at Molly with an exasperated expression, "Molly, you know what I'm going to say."

"Oh please don't start that again," Molly huffed. She stood up and walked to her room, but before she reached her door she yelled, "I don't fancy Sherlock Holmes!"

Meena jumped as Molly slammed her door then chuckled, "She's got it bad."

* * *

A couple of weeks later, Molly found herself shopping with Meena and Mary Morstan , John Watson's girlfriend. She really liked the blonde; she was perky and didn't take anything from anyone. She also was able to control Sherlock, so she was basically a godsend. Meena had a date and she, according to her, had absolutely nothing to wear so the girls were shopping. While Meena tried things on, Molly and Mary sat on the couch outside of the fitting room. They had fallen into a comfortable silence.

"So, Molly, have you met anybody?" Mary asked.

Molly looked down and chuckled, "no, I've quit looking after the last one."

"What happened with the last one?"

"We'll not only was he on a date with me, he was texting someone else, and had another date show up during ours. I swear if there was a prize for bad judgment, I would win it every time," Molly laughed as she folded her jumper in her lap.

"So there's not anyone you like?" Mary asked

"Oh please, she fancies Sherlock," Meena yelled from the dressing room.

"Meena, hush. If she doesn't want to admit it, she doesn't have to," Mary gently scolded.

"Oh, Mary, not you too," Molly said as she slumped further down into the couch.

"You're so obvious it hurts," Meena said as she walked out of the fitting room, dress in hand. "We can go. This will have to do."

As they walked up to the counter, Molly and Mary stayed back while Meena purchased the orange dress.

"Why won't you just admit that you like him?" Mary asked as she looked at her nails.

"Seriously, Mary? Why is it such a big deal that I admit I like him?"

Mary looked up so fast that she nearly got whiplash, "so you admit you like him then?"

"No, I did not say that," Molly cautioned.

"Oh yes you did! You said 'why is it so important that I admit it?' is that a declaration of love?" Mary sang as she poked Molly lightheartedly.

"Come on, how cliché is that, liking the one person you can't stand to be in the same room with. No, thank you." Molly said as Meena walked up to them.

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that," Mary said as they exited the store.

* * *

"Coffee. Black, two sugars. Keep the change," Sherlock said as he handed the barista enough money for both his drink and John's and a very generous tip. He stalked off towards a table with John following close behind. He watched as he slid into the seat across from him.

"So, are we going to talk about her?" John asked.

"To what 'her' are you referring John? Mary, the barista, my mother, _your_ mother, you really must be more specific," Sherlock said as he watched the barista walk towards them.

She apologized for the wait and John nodded politely. They both took the lids off of their coffee and Sherlock took a drink, nearly burning his tongue in the process. He knew exactly who John was referring to and he really didn't want to talk about it

"Molly, Molly Hooper. Your lab partner. The girl you fancy," John said with a pointed look.

Sherlock winced. He had taken too big of a sip. His burning esophagus couldn't stop him from answering though. "What about her?"

"When are you going to admit that you like her?"

"Why would I not like her? She's more tolerable than most, more tolerable than you on some days. She's smarter than the average female. She likes and understands science."

"So you admit you like her?"

"I admit only that I tolerate her."

"Sherlock, why do you keep on denying it? It's written all over your face."

"There is nothing to deny, because I don't like her, John. I swear is that all you care about? Who likes who and whether someone is shagging or not?" Sherlock asked with a sneer.

John's face dropped. He stood from the table and grabbed his coffee, "grow up Sherlock, I care about you. That's why I asked." He walked off without looking back. Sherlock took another sip.

* * *

Four weeks later Molly, Mary, John, and Sherlock could all be found in the library. Molly, Mary and John were all studying for their finals; Sherlock had nothing better to do so he joined them. Mary was currently taking a break; she passed the time by watching the others. She noticed one recurring pattern, when Sherlock wasn't looking at Molly, she was looking at him. Mary and John had both discussed the problem their friends were facing and they decided that they needed to do something about it. Mary had finally had too much from the pair of them. She grabbed Sherlock's arm and, ignoring the strange looks from John and Molly, drug him off to the G isle.

"Tell her you fancy her!" Mary whispered.

"Sorry?" Sherlock whispered back.

"Molly, tell her you fancy her or I swear that I will kick your arse so hard you'll be limping for days."

"Mary-"

"No, I don't want to hear anything, unless it's you agreeing that you'll tell her."

Across the library, John and Molly were having a similar conversation, though this one had fewer threats.

"There is no way that a relationship between me and Sherlock Holmes would work. We're too different. Besides he doesn't even like me like that."

"Molly, trust me, he likes you exactly like that. And what's the old saying, opposites attract? You'll calm him down; make him more tolerable at least. Besides, you'll both be happier."

"Honestly, John, I'm just tired of all of my friends breathing down my back trying to get us together." Molly snapped.

"You'll both be happier if you just admit it!" John snapped back.

Back to Mary and Sherlock, the arguments were just as heated.

"If you would set your pride aside for two minutes, something good might actually happen to you for once in your life." Mary nearly shouted.

"On the contrary Miss Watson, good things happen to me all of the time."

"Sherlock-"

He leaned over and got in Mary's face, "alright, fine you want me to admit that I love Molly Hooper? Fine, I'll admit it." He stormed passed her. He headed over to the table. He could tell that John and Molly were having a heated conversation.

"Miss Hooper," he said, not caring that they were in a library. Multiple heads shot up, and a couple of 'shhs' could be heard, but Sherlock didn't care. He walked up to the table and stood before Molly, "I have something to tell you."

Molly sighed and pushed away from the table, moving to stand in front of him, "What could you possibly have to tell me, Mr. Holmes," she said, her voice rising with each word.

"I love you," he practically yelled.

"I love you, too!" She yelled back.

They both stared at each other, wide-eyed. Molly quickly covered her mouth, and Sherlock looked around. Mary could be head giggling from behind Sherlock, and John just muttered "took them bloody long enough" under his breath. None of them noticed the old librarian walking toward them.

"If you two would kindly declare your love for each other somewhere else, that would be just grand. There are people trying to study in here," She whispered shrilly.

Sherlock smirked and offered Molly his arm, "Care for a cup of coffee, Molly?"

"I'd love one," she smiled back as she took his arm. The pair headed out the door, with eyes only for each other.

Mary came up and took Molly's seat across from John, "Well, that didn't happen like we thought it would. I knew they liked each other but love?"

"If I've learned one thing, it's that you never know what is going to happen with those two around," John chuckled.

"Am I going to have to ask the pair of you to leave as well?" the librarian asked, looking over the rim of her glasses.

"No, ma'am," John and Mary said as they bent over their books. They smirked at each other as she walked off.

It would be very interesting watching this relationship play out. Sherlock Holmes and Molly Hooper, it was a match made by the gods.


	6. I'll Come Back

**Thanks to Starlight-falls on tumblr for suggesting this song. This chapter is based on 'The Call' from Regina Spektor from The Chronicles of Narnia. It counts as Disney. I wasn't to sure about this at first, but as I started writing I liked it more and more. It also went in a completely different direction than I intended. Warning for MCD.**

**Thanks to Eloiseattheplaza and benedicted-cumberbatched for helping me with this!**

**DISCLAIMER: I really don't own anything**

* * *

Molly met him at Uni and was lost the moment he walked into the room. She never stood a chance, if you asked her. She could have blamed it on the boy's hair, or his clothes, but really it was his eyes. They drew her in the moment he looked at her. What was the phrase? "There were galaxies in his eyes." It rang true for Sherlock Holmes. She felt exposed, naked even, under his fierce gaze. She had nothing to hide, but she was fearful of what he would find. His eyes told what his body and voice wouldn't. They betrayed him, if one knew how to read them. A talent she learned very quickly.

Of course, he was the rudest asshole she had ever met. How one person could manage to insult every person in room with one word, she didn't know. Never her though. He made his comments and they would sting, but she never thought that he was insulting her. She knew he was more than his insults and remarks. He was a man who was afraid to let people in, and used his intelligence to keep them out.

Over time, she got to know him. He let very few people into his life, but when he let someone in, they became his family. He would protect them with everything he had. John Watson was the perfect example. He was of no kin to Sherlock, but they would do anything for each other. She liked to think that she was one of the people he cared about but she wouldn't get her hopes up. To be one of the people who mattered to Sherlock Holmes was a miracle. Why would she be so lucky? No matter how much she loved him.

It was just a nagging feeling in the back of her head at first. Sure she was attracted to him physically, but personality wise, there was nothing appealing about him. Yet, over time, he opened up and she fell in love with his soul, his very being, all that he was. Towards the end of their last year, he began acting different towards her. He opened up more, walked closer to her, his stare lingered just a little bit longer than normal. However he felt about her though, he would always be 'the one that got away.' School ended and they had to go their separate ways. Molly had accepted that things between her and Sherlock Holmes would never work out. That was easier said than done though.

He never told her goodbye and she never said goodbye to him either. Maybe it was just wishful thinking.

* * *

Life had settled down and Molly couldn't be happier. She was finally settling into her new flat and she had an amazing job. Actually, getting the job at Barts was probably one of the best things that had ever happened to her. She didn't actually think she would. Now she had the honor of being the youngest pathologist there. Of course that came with its setbacks. She had to deal with people muttering under their breath, comments about her being a woman, and being too young for the position. She did her best to ignore them all and keep her head high. She was fine until he came back into her life.

While she didn't think about him all the time, Sherlock was always in the back of her mind. After they graduated, she hadn't heard from him. He had never tried to contact her, but she didn't try to contact him either. She could use the excuse of being busy, but heartbreak was the main reason. She knew what would happen if she allowed Sherlock to say in her life. No man would be able to compete with him, especially if he was around. So, when he walked through the doors of the lab, Molly's breath caught in her throat and she could see her dreams of romance dissolve.

That's how the next years of her life were. Sherlock would come in and out of her life as he pleased and she would always be waiting on him. She was at his beck and call. Maybe things hadn't changed that much after all. She tried dating but none of them could compare with the storm that was Sherlock Holmes.

Of course some of the men she dated turned out to be insane. Jim Moriarty being the main example. He used her to get close to Sherlock, something she always felt guilty for. So, when Sherlock came to her for help, she couldn't refuse, not that she would have anyway. Everything was planned out. He'd meet Moriarty on the roof and end up jumping, killing himself. It was up to her to stop that from happening.

It all went off without a hitch. Sherlock Holmes was dead, off to take down Moriarty's network and Molly was left to keep the secret. Went it came time for him to actually leave, neither one said goodbye. He claimed he had a life to win back, a reputation to reclaim. She claimed that goodbyes were too final. If they were both honest, not saying it gave them both a reason to ignore the pain they were both feeling. It gave him a reason to come back. A kiss on the forehead and he was gone.

* * *

Fifty five years later, Molly found herself in the cottage she shared with her husband. He was still going over case files. 93 years old and he still had the sharpest mind around. Hers was going though. She often found herself back in the morgue, or back on their honeymoon. She didn't much care either way, Sherlock was always there. But she knew things were getting bad when she thought her great-grandson was her daughter.

As she laid in bed, she looked at her husband beside her. He still had those curls, though they had long since turned grey. She thought back to their wedding day. There had been no planning, no grand gestures, just them. Well, them, John, Mary and a priest. Mycroft had the paperwork rushed and they were married by sunset. Neither one of them would have changed a thing though. Not long after, their first daughter was born followed by two sons.

She curled around him, he shifted and turned in his sleep. She watched him as he dreamed. The lines that had etched themselves on his face told their own story. Years of strife, laughter and grief. Memories rested in those lines. She nestled closer to him and smiled as he pulled her near. Closing her eyes, the years they shared passed played out in her mind. They had never once said goodbye to each other, and even though she knew her time was running out, she wasn't about to start now.


	7. That Famous Happy Ending

**For Benedictedcumberbatched who is starting a new job soon, and is just awesome all around!**

**This is based on the song "So Close" from Enchanted. This is one of my all time favorite Disney songs! I was listening to it and this fic just kind of...happened. It doesn't necessarily fit into the Oliver Holmes world, but can if you squint. I hope you like it! Thanks so much to Miz-Joely for betaing for me!**

**Disclaimer: I Don't own anything!**

* * *

The months had gone by so quickly, nobody really had had any time to stop and think about things. Between Sherlock's exile and dealing with Moriarty's return, it was a wonder any of them were still sane.

To Molly Hooper, Sherlock's return was as surprising as his almost exile. She never even knew he had gone. All she remembered of that day, was Jim Moriarty standing in her office, waiting for her with that sardonic smile of his. She fought as best she could but in the end, he was too strong. Next thing she knew, she was in some warehouse tied to a chair. Jim was talking to her when she woke up, saying something about not missing anyone this time, something about Sherlock's heart. She blacked out when the man in question came barreling through the door. She woke up in a hospital bed two days later, Sherlock hunched over asleep with his head on the bed, his hand in hers. According to John, he hadn't left her side since they dealt with Moriarty. For good this time.

In all honesty, he hadn't left her side since she was released either. They hadn't talked about their relationship, if that was what it could be called. There had been no declarations of love, no flirting, just comfort provided by having someone near. They did have one night together, not long after she had been released from hospital. It had happened before either one of them could stop it. They had just been talking, talking about what happened, and what could have happened had Moriarty not shown up or if Sherlock had been too late to save her. She had been looking at her lap, but she made the mistake, though she would never call it a mistake, of looking at him. They were both lost after their eyes met. He pounced on her and kissed her as if his life depended on it. She kissed back just as fiercely, in a way her life did. That night was more than sex. It was a second chance. They were both alive, they had both survived.

He was there when she woke up. He held her and she clung to him as tightly as she dared, neither one wanting to break the trance they both seemed to be in, but the dream had to end. When she got out of the shower, the bed was made and Sherlock was gone. They hadn't talked about it. She doubted they ever would. He still barely let her out of his sight, though. It had to have meant something to him as well.

Three months later, things had changed again. This change might be too much though. She tried to ignore the signs, but the time had come, she couldn't ignore them anymore. She was pregnant. That one, amazing night, had changed things more than she ever thought it could or would for that matter. Neither one of them had thought about the chances of pregnancy. In truth, neither one cared at the time. She had waited this long to tell him, a couple more days couldn't hurt.

Molly was curled up on her couch half asleep, her hair piled on her head, Toby on the back cushion above her. She hadn't changed out of her pajamas. She had thrown up all afternoon and didn't have to leave her flat, she didn't see the point in actually putting on decent clothes. She was just about to finally fall asleep when she heard a rustling at her door. Groaning she covered her head with a pillow and stretched out along the couch.

"Go away, Sherlock," she mumbled as she heard the door open.

Ignoring her completely, Sherlock walked through the door. He wiped his feet and toed off his shoes as he hung up his coat and scarf. She felt him lift her feet, sit down, and place them in his lap.

"What do you want?" she grumbled.

"It's too quiet at Baker Street. Mrs. Hudson is at her sister's and I need someone to talk at," he replied, absentmindedly rubbing her feet.

She finally uncovered her head and glared at him. "What happened to your skull?"

"You actually answer me back and Mrs. Hudson has taken it again," he sighed.

"Lovely," she murmured, turning on her side.

Sherlock studied her for a moment, deciding on whether or not he should try to deduce what was wrong or just ask. She hated it when he deduced her, he knew that much. Asking it was.

"Molly, something is bothering you."

"Aren't you observant?"

"Do you wish to talk about it?" he asked, a twinge of anxiousness in his voice.

"What's the point? Talking about it will more than likely do more harm than good."

"I've been told talking about ones feelings is cathartic, not that I believe that, however it might work for you."

She sat up, huffing out a breath as she did so. She had kept this bottled up too long and she knew it. "You want to talk Sherlock? Fine, let's talk. What are we?"

A confused look crossed his features as he looked about the room. "We're homo-sapiens-"

"No, Sherlock, you and me. What are we? Do you know, because I sure as hell don't?"

"Ah," he said, looking down at his feet. What was he supposed to say? They were friends, were they not? Well, a bit more than friends. She was his confidant, his rock, his center. Did she not know that? Not knowing what to say he just looked at her. Her face a mixture of anger, confusion, sadness, and something he couldn't quite put a name to. Arms crossed over her chest, glasses falling off of her nose, Toby, dead to the world at her shoulder. She had no clue what she meant to him.

"Do you know why I come here? Why I use your flat as a bolt hole?" She shook her head. "Everything stops when I'm with you. My mind is set at ease, it's calm."

"Sherlock, What-"

He lifted her legs off of his lap and stood up. He held his hand out to her. "Come here." She eyed his hand and lifted her eyes to his face. "Molly, just come here. Please."

She sighed and reached out for his hand. He pulled her off of the couch and walked backwards, guiding her towards the middle of her living room. Once he was satisfied with where they were, he pulled her close. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he rested his chin on top of her head, breathing her in. For Molly's part, she was half shocked by his actions. It was too much. Her eyes filled with tears as she grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket and buried her face in his chest in an attempt to hide them. He soon started to sway.

"This is what I'm talking about. Nothing exists to me, aside from the two of us right now. But that's the dangerous thing, isn't it? I can't keep my mind on anything but you when I'm here. I never wanted romance. 'Sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side.' I believed that. I was alright with going through life alone. Then you came along and changed everything." He pulled back a bit to look her in the face. Once he saw her tears, he brought one hand up to cradle her face, his thumb wiping away the ones that fell. "After I jumped, you became my lifeline in more ways than one. You were always so close, but so far. Most of that was my fault I admit-"

"Sherlock, stop. Just stop," Molly said as she pushed away from him. "Why are you saying all of this now?"

"I want to say it before it's too late. I know how you felt about me. I knew the entire time. It was just too dangerous for you to be involved with me."

"Don't you think that's a decision you should have let me make myself?"

"No, because you would have chosen wrong and Moriarty and Magnussen both would have targeted you."

"Well, fat lot of good staying away did seeing as Jim got damn near close to killing me!" Molly yelled.

"Which is why I never wanted to get involved with you! You would have been fine, had I not came back. If I had just stayed away you would have been safe." Sherlock was pacing now, dragging his fingers through his hair. He turned on his heel and walked towards her. He stood inches away, but not touching her. "But tell me, would you have been happy if I had?"

"No," she bit out. "We both know that. Why even ask?"

He took a deep breath as he closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were full of hope and dare she say it, love. He cupped her face and tilted her head up, to look him in the eye. "To prove that we need this. We need each other. My life would be nothing without you, Molly Hooper. I never knew how much I needed you, until you were taken from me. By Tom, by Moriarty, even by myself." He finally rested his forehead against hers. "Look how far we've come, Molly. It'd be a shame to let it all go now."

She closed her eyes. She couldn't stop the smile from appearing. She pulled away and grabbed both of his hands. She pulled them down and held them against her chest. He could probably feel her racing heart, but she couldn't bring herself to care. "Sherlock, I need to tell you something."

"I know about the baby."

"What?" she gasped out.

"I've known for a couple of weeks."

"How could you- I didn't even…"

"Molly, you knew, you just didn't want to admit it. Do you forget that I'm a detective? I observe things," he smirked, "and I've observed your changing appetite and your near constant runs to the loo or nearest trash can when you've actually gone to work these past few weeks."

She huffed out a laugh and slapped him on the chest. "You git! So, you just let me suffer this last week, worrying about telling you?"

"Social situations aren't my forte, but even I know you shouldn't tell a woman she's pregnant, well I do now," he said thinking back to a certain secret he let slip at John and Mary's wedding. "Especially when she hasn't accepted that fact for herself." He smiled and cupped the back of her head.

"You're alright with it then? The baby I mean?"

"I can honestly say that I didn't expect it, but I am overjoyed at the thought of our child running around the flat, whether it be here or at Baker Street, as long as I am with you both."

She threw her arms around his neck and finally let the tears flow freely, though they were happy tears this time. She could feel him chuckle as he wrapped his arms around her waist again and pulled her close. "I love you, Molly Hooper."

"I love you, too," she managed to choke out through the tears.

He kissed the side of her head and started swaying again. Were things perfect between the pair of them? No, but now they had the luxury of time to figure things out. Life wasn't a fairytale, but Sherlock Holmes and Molly Hooper would have their happy ending. The birth of their son six months later was just the beginning.


End file.
